Twentyfive
by meijing
Summary: This Christmas, Yamato is pursuing his dream of being a rock star, with setbacks of course. Some unfortunate events, however, will bring him right back to where he belongs. This isn't your average Christmas story.


Annual Christmas 'fic! (Third year in a row!) I have once again abused my artistic license and sent episode 50 on vacation to Graz, Austria; you may now rid yourself of the horrible 'Sorato' aftertaste. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer—(Digimon does not belong to me)—had a very shiny nose—(I am making no profit from this fiction)—and if you ever saw it—(Be warned: a homosexual relationship between Yamato and Taichi ahead)—you would even say it glowed...get the subliminal message? Heh.

This Christmas, Yamato is pursuing his dream of being a rock star, with setbacks of course. Some unfortunate events, however, will bring him right back to where he belongs. This isn't your average Christmas story. (PG-13 for some wordy-derds. Run adolescents, run!) A/N: $750.00 U.S. Dollars. Happy reading!

**Twenty-five**

by meijing

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPERANCE STILL BAFFLES POLICE, read the December 24th headline of Tokyo's main newspaper. The article went into detail of a high school coach that was seemingly 'abducted' as a makeshift wormhole appeared on his way home and 'absorbed' him. Witnesses—there were only three—were tested for insanity in order for the police force to actually believe them. Insanity or no, the 24th marked the anniversary. Readers were asked to give any information they knew on the subject.

The article, however, went ignored by the teenage girl holding the paper. Who reads depressing stories on Christmas Eve? She squealed in delight as she found what she was looking for.

"I've got to get home!" she shouted, dashing through crowds of true Last-Minute Shoppers. The paper caught in the wind and fluttered into a pile of slush. "Yamato-san's Christmas special comes on tonight!"

The paper lay forgotten, trampled in the snow.

"YA-MA-TO! YA-MA-TO! YA-MA-TO!" screamed the select fans in the audience. These were the devoted fans, the ones that worshipped Ishida Yamato enough to abandon their families on Christmas Eve to see him in an exclusive television concert. Well, his agent called them devoted; he called them psychotic. Who in their right mind would pay almost 79,000 yen for a thirty-minute _televised_ concert?

The "I LOVE YOU"'s and "I'M YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN"'s began to resound around the studio. Yamato cradled his head in his hands, feeling the beginnings of a headache. He loved his band, loved music, and loved traveling, but he hated the loud, obsessed fans that proclaimed their undying love for him when they really didn't know a thing about him.

Of course, he didn't want them to know everything about him. There were only a few people that held that privilege, and one of said persons hurt Yamato too much to think about. He (Taichi) had stopped coming to concerts, had stopped sending flowers, had stopped calling, had stopped everything. Yamato had guessed that Taichi didn't have the Courage to break up with him face to face. So Yamato immersed himself into his new life, and tried his best to forget Taichi.

The silver fabric of his suit sparkled in the light. The whole suit—an abomination of red and white and silver—was nothing he would have ever picked out in his right mind. But his agent said that it was better than his usual black ensemble. He hated it with a passion.

As another chorus of "YA-MA-TO!" began, Yamato felt the headache with full force. He looked at the clock above the mirror; twenty-five minutes until showtime. He rose and left the room, shutting the door with a sharp 'click' behind him. His agent shook his head and paid Yamato no attention. This wasn't the first time he'd gone to be alone before a concert, and it most certainly wasn't the last.

On the roof of Tokyo's central television station, the wind was throwing snow flurries around in a circular chaos. Yamato was certain he'd get yelled at if his lips were chapped for the concert. He rolled his eyes. As if he cared.

His nose and ears were numb after five minutes passed. 'Probably should have worn the jacket,' Yamato thought glumly. The wind picked up even faster. So fast that Yamato didn't even notice a figure lumber up behind him. An icy hand forced his head to the side as a needle was injected into his skin. The last thing he registed as he fell to the ground was a hazy jester smiling at him.

Inside, the fans were waiting in anticipation.

Yamato groggily awoke to a snow-covered terrain. His mind couldn't make sense of the endless white, or the sounds thundering in his ears. He caught blurry flashes of blue and white as his vision cleared.

'Garurumon?'

"Yamato, are you alright?" Garurumon panted out. He was claw-deep in snow from the struggle.

"What happened?"

"You were kidnapped." Yamato jerked into a sitting position. The feeling was painfully coming back into his arms. The confusion was plainly spread on his face, but Garurumon cut off any questions that he'd had. "Climb up," he rumbled, his voice in a deep growl that meant he was worried. Yamato obeyed, and kept silent as they ran far into the darkness.

They reached a cave by the time the stars began to show in the sky. Garurumon sighed and set Yamato down. He de-evolved into Gabumon and started to build a fire. Yamato watched him sadly as he realized that this was the first time he'd seen Gabumon in years.

"Thank you," he said quietly. Gabumon's head snapped up. "for saving me."

Gabumon have him a warm smile. "You're my friend, Yamato. I'd do anything for you." His smile faded into a frown.

"Gabumon, what's going on?"

The furry digimon didn't waste any time. "Yamato, Piedmon's back." It took a minute for the words to sink in.

"Piedmon? He can't be. We defeated him years ago."

"Or so we thought. He found a way to save part of his digital code and sort of...restart himself. At least, that's how Gennai explained it to me."

"Then we can just call everyone back and defeat him again. We're stronger than we were back then; it shouldn't even take that long."

Gabumon averted his eyes. "That's where you're wrong. He's stronger too, because he's been driving himself crazy to find a way to destroy you."

"What about the others?"

"Piedmon blocked their way back here." Yamato frowned. 'Is that even possible?' "It seems like he only wants you and Taichi."

Yamato's heart stopped beating for a moment. "Taichi...." he whispered. Gabumon caught his forlorn look, but decided not to comment. Yamato obviously still had a soft spot when it came to Taichi.

"Anyway, he broke the barrier between your world and ours, and kidnapped both of you. Now we've got to go find Taichi and get rid of Piedmon for good."

Yamato snorted. Just like the old days: into a strange world, hopeless circumstances, and a mission to save everyone...he was torn between enjoying and hating the spark in his veins he felt. He stared silently into the crackling flames. "We'll get a head start tomorrow morning, then."

Selfless as ever, Gabumon waited until Yamato fell asleep to finally close his eyes.

After miles and miles of running, Gabumon stopped in the middle of nowhere. Yamato had long before stopped trying to make out landforms. Everything was buried beneath a thick blanket of snow, and soon his eyes began to hurt.

"Where are we?" There was nothing around, but Yamato slid off Gabumon anyway. Gabumon began to dig in the snow for something.

"Close to Piedmon. Ah hah!" Beneath the snow was a single playing card: the joker. "Howling Blaster!"

The snow continued to fall as they fell deep into a chasm.

It was a while before Yamato regained consciousness. His eyes slowly adjusting to the dim torchlight, he called out, "Gabumon!" The was a soft growl to his far right, so he scrambled over to it.

"Gabumon, tell me you're okay." His voice even sounded shaky to his own ears. Gabumon growled softly again. (He was holding back a whimper, but Yamato didn't need to know that.)

"I didn't expect him to take away _everything_ underneath the passageway. I think something's broken."

"Then we have to get you to Gennai or something!" The look in Yamato's eyes reminded Gabumon of many years before....

"Not now. Just find Taichi and Agumon. Then we'll figure out what to do." After moments of hesitation, Yamato nodded. Gabumon waited to catch his breath. "I'm sorry that I can't help you." Yamato flashed him a worried smile and shook his head.

"I'll be back as soon as I can for you, Gabumon." With that, he walk deep into the quiet.

It was a while before Yamato had enough light to see. Everything seemed to be made of dirt—dirt and clay. It gave him a claustrophobic feeling. The tunnels later opened up and were built from stone. The temperature dropped as he went deeper inside. The quiet was broken by explosive screams, echoing off the walls and all around him. They weren't human at all. 'Sounds like...a wild animal.'

"Agumon!" He ran without thinking to where the sounds were loudest. He halted when he saw the guards, tall, mocking jesters with swords. They took turns stabbing at him. Agumon had long before evolved to Greymon, but with no avail; iron chains held him fast to the wall and floor. His eyes were bloodshot with madness.

Teeth gnashing, Greymon tore one of the jesters in half. The jester fell to pieces—literally. Fragments of paper, like playing cards, fell to the ground. The sword skidded close to where Yamato was hidden. Then he got the most insane idea he hadn't had in years.

"For Gabumon," he whispered. He grabbed the sword and ran like crazy at the remaining jesters. They fell apart easily, though one managed to nick Yamato's arm. Greymon roared at him as he approached.

"Greymon, it's me. Yamato." The red-rimmed eyes watched him warily. "Remember?" Only a low growl this time. "I've come to save you and Taichi." _That_ only made it worse. Greymon struggled in his chains and roared in all the fury he could muster. He slumped to the floor, exhausted. After de-evolving, he lay still, as if he were dead. For a moment, Yamato almost believed that he was.

Slashing at the chains, it took a while for them to break loose. As soon as Agumon was free, Yamato cradled him in his arms.

"What have they done to you, Agumon?" Agumon looked at him wearily.

"You came," he said hoarsely.

"Of course."

Agumon jerked in his arms. "You have to hurry! They've got Tai, and who knows—" He fell back, the fatigue washing over him again.

"Don't worry, Agumon. I'll take care of it." He laid Agumon down gently and, for the second time, left his friend with only a promise.

Taichi was even deeper still. The walls changed from stone to marble, and were more sophistated. The halls were decorated with tapestries, gruesome depictions of Piedmon in glory. Yamato shuddered. Why hadn't he been told about this from anyone? He came to the end of a hallway, and up to a wooden door. He thought he heard the sounds of chains clinking, but he opened the door anyway. He'd come too far to turn back.

What he saw made his stomach turn. Taichi was emaciated, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. The clinking sound was from the chains he was hanging by, clinking as they rocked back and forth. He was at least a foot off the ground.

"Taichi," Yamato breathed.

Taichi glared at him with so much hatred that Yamato took a step back. "You," he spat. His voice was raw. "How dare you come here!"

Yamato's old anger sparked. "What do you mean? I've come to help you, you idiot!"

"_Help_ me? I don't want your help."

Yamato cut at his chains anyway. He hadn't done everything for nothing...! "Leave me! Go back to the real world, back to not caring about whatever happens in the digital world." He landed on his feet, but slumped to the floor. Yamato tried to help him stand, but was only pushed away. "Just go."

A second passed, and then Yamato's old temper was back. He and Taichi wrestled on the floor, with Taichi eventually landing under Yamato's weight with a thud. He was too weak to fight back much, but that didn't stop a few punches from coming to Yamato's face. He slumped down, breathless. Yamato was reminded of being on that island, wrestling in the snow....

"Why do you hate me so much?"

"Why didn't you come earlier? Why didn't you save Agumon? Why didn't you stop Piedmon when you knew—"

"I didn't know anything!"

"Bullshit. You still have your digivice."

"No, I couldn't keep it with me. I was afraid some crazy fan would steal it."

"Then what about the others? Didn't you try to contact them?"

"No, I just thought that everyone was busy with their own lives. They didn't need to be bothered with me."

"For a fucking year, Yamato? Too busy to tell you that the world was in danger?"

Yamato scowled and looked away. "Well, what about you? Why did you just stop calling and everything?"

"I've been here."

Yamato paled. "For a year...." Taichi's laugh had no mirth in it.

"A year." Yamato's anger faded into nothing. He hugged Taichi close and Taichi returned it weakly. Yamato fought back all the emotions he'd been holding since the year before. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. He just listened to Taichi's breathing and tried not to think about what might have happened.

A bit of Taichi's old spark came back into his brown eyes. "I guess that we've got to save the world again, huh?" He flashed Yamato a half smile.

"Are you sure? We can't just storm in there without a plan and you about to pass out."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

'Stubborn as ever!' Yamato mused.

As Taichi started to ask about Agumon (he was ashamed that it wasn't the first thing he'd asked about), metallic footfalls approached. The metal grated against the marble floor as they got closer.

Piedmon was not longer the jester; he was the king, decorated in purple and royal blue with a golden crown. His mask was studded with diamonds, as well as his armor. He turned cold eyes to them.

"I do hope that you didn't think you were going to defeat me a second time." He threw Agumon and Gabumon into the room. "The odds are against you."

"The odds weren't that good last time, either."

Piedmon laughed. "Neither was I. But I am better, and soon I will be rid of you." Dark coils, seething with masks and jesters, seeped from the walls and encircled the four. The darkness began to suffocate them.

"We—can't—evolve—!" Gabumon shouted. He could feel Agumon clawing beside him, but he couldn't see anything. He was choking.

Taichi reached out for Yamato, realizing that it was too late before they had even started. He began to see spots. He pressed their faces together. "Yamato," he gasped, trying to say everything he needed before it was too late. Yamato slumped over in his arms.

'If only I could have told him, or shown him...is this the end for us?" A light burst all around them. The masks and jesters and darkness faded away with a howl.

"_What!_!" Piedmon shouted. Before him, Agumon and Gabumon were evolving into Omnimon. The light burst through the corridors and out through cracks in the surface. Piedmon shielded his eyes. "This can't be!"

Taichi was still clutching Yamato when his strength came back. Yamato coughed in his arms. Their eyes connected after seeing what was going on: Omnimon was defeating Piedmon with ease. Piedmon was backed into the wall, the finishing blow seconds away.

But nothing mattered but the sapphire and amber eyes locked onto one another. "You still love me that much," he whispered. His voice was thick with emotion.

"When did I ever stop?" Taichi whispered back.

The last thing Piedmon saw before complete oblivion was a kiss that rivaled any under the mistletoe.

Outside, the blizzard had stopped and the sky was a clear blue. "I guess that we can start repairing everything now."

Yamato looked away. "I can't. I have to go back."

"What do you mean, 'you have to go back'? Stay here, with me."

"I can't just leave everything behind, Taichi." Their eyes locked in a battle of wills. This time, Taichi looked away.

"Fine. Whatever makes you happy." He gave Yamato a hug, brotherly in comparison to the others he had given, and they separated. Gabumon handed Yamato a digivice.

"Gennai knew you'd need this to get back." Yamato only nodded.

"Goodbye, Gabumon." Gabumon hugged him.

"Don't forget me," Gabumon said sadly. But he knew that Yamato was busy being a 'rock star' (whatever that was), and couldn't come back like he used to. At least he was happy.

Yamato landed back in his dressing room. It was empty, and still 25 minutes until concert time. The crowd was still cheering madly as a knock sounded on the door. His agent burst in.

"Good, that didn't take long. What the hell happened to your suit?" The suit was covered dirt and all sorts of stains. Yamato just laughed, making his agent think that maybe he had finally snapped.

Was this what he wanted? Cheering fans that couldn't love him like Taichi did, ugly holiday ensembles, and pretending to be happy? Of course not. He shook his head. "Tell them I cancelled it."

"You can't just cancel!"

"Yes, I can, and I am. In fact, cancel everything. Make up some wild story, I don't care." He turned to the laptop on the dresser and went back to where he belonged: with Taichi.

A week later, his agent was checked for insanity. The tabloids read,

SEARCH CONTINUES FOR SINGER ABDUCTED BY CRIME LORDS. The Japanese teenage population mourned the loss of their idol.

In the meantime, on the 25th day of December of his twenty-fifth year, Yamato was busy alseep in the arms of his love. He awoke Christmas morning with the hopes of twenty-five more Christmases to come, there right where he belonged.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, to everyone reading, and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!


End file.
